The Rae-Zerd of Ozarath
by XxKoriAndRichardXx
Summary: Korothy and her pet dog land in Gizmokin Country after a storm. She kills a witch, another is after her and a pair of silver shoes a good witch gave her, and she needs to talk to the Rae-Zerd of Ozarath to get home! Along the way she meets a ScareRobin looking for a brain, a TinBorg in need of a heart, and a Cowardly Beastboy missing courage. Can she help them all and get home?
1. Chapter 1

**The Rae-Zerd of Ozarath**

**Characters:**

** (All Teen Titans characters I can include). **

** Korothy-**** Dorothy**

** Silkie-**** Toto**

**Rae-Zerd-**** The Wizard of Oz**

** The Cowardly Beastboy-**** The Cowardly Lion**

** The TinBorg-**** The Tin Man**

** The ScareRobin-**** The Scarecrow **

** The Good Control Freak of the North-**** The Good Witch of the North**

** The Wicked Kitten of the East-**** The Wicked Witch of the East**

** The Wicked Slade of the West-**** The Wicked Witch of the West**

** The Gizmokins-**** The Munchkins**

**Summary:**

** Korothy is a young orphaned girl raised by her knorfka Uncle Galfore and Aunt Ander in the bleak landscape of a Tamaran farm. She has a little dog named Silkie, which looks remarkably like a larva with stubby legs, who is her sole source of happiness on the dry, gray prairies. **

**One day the farmhouse is caught up in one of Lightning and Thunder's experimental storm and deposited in a field in Gizmokin Country, the eastern quadrant of the Land of Ozarath. The falling house kills the evil ruler of the Gizmokins, the Wicked Kitten of the East. The Good Control Freak of the North bestows upon Korothy a pair of silver shoes with magical properties and tells Korothy she must go to Trigon City and seek out the Rae-Zerd of Ozarath. **

**Along her way to find the Rae-Zerd of Ozarath in the Trigon City by following the Red-X brick road, Korothy and Silkie meet several odd but wonderful friends who also need help:**

**The ScareRobin is looking for a brain, the TinBorg is looking for a heart, and the Cowardly Beastboy is looking for courage. However, will Korothy be able to help her friends and get herself home before the Wicked Slade of the West stops her?**

There will be no pairings in this story, given that it is a Teen Titan parody of the Wizard of Oz.

I do not own any rights. DC Comics and affiliates own Teen Titans, and copyright infringement is neither intended nor accepted. L. Frank Baum owns _The Wonderful Wizard of Oz_ and all rights belong to him and any affiliates.

**Copyright infringement is the use of works under copyright, infringing the copyright holder's exclusive rights, such as the right to reproduce, distribute, display or perform the copyrighted work, or to make derivative works, without permission from the copyright holder, which is typically a publisher or other business representing or assigned by the work's creator (Wikipedia. 2013). **

***Chapter One**

** The Storm**

When Korothy stood in the doorway and looked around, she could see nothing but the long, boring and painfully dull prairies on every side. Neither a single tree nor a dilapidated house broke the broad sweep of the flat country that reached to the edge of the bright blue sky. The sun baked the broken, dusty land into a gray mass with little cracks running through the ground, as if ready to crap open a large abyss of darkness and suck them in. Korothy could see it now. A great rumbling would shake the planet to the very core, and each crack would widen until everything was pulled downwards. Only the sun would continue beating heavily down on whatever survived, and Korothy believed it wouldn't be much of a loss.

There was nothing around for miles. Even the grass was not the green she had seen in books, or the sliver of a glimpse she had gotten on the old television between the gray static and burst of color that ruined the already grainy images. The sun had burned off any color in this dreary land until it was all one gray color. Even the paint on the house, once a light shade of lavender trimmed with blue, was blistered by the sun and washed away by the rains.

When Aunt Ander came here to live, she was a young, pretty wife with flowing auburn hair that made every girl jealous and a pair of bright emerald eyes. The sun and wind had changed her, too. They had taken the sparkle from her eyes and left them a sober gray; they had taken the red from her cheeks and lips, and they too were gray. She was thin and gaunt, and never smiled now, always frowning in her usual way, a crease between her eyes formed from years of furrowing her small brows. When Korothy, now an orphan because of a war that took many lives, including her sister's and brother's, first came to Aunt Ander, she had been so startled by the child's laughter that she would scream and press her hand upon her heart whenever Korothy's merry voice reached her ears; and she still looked at Korothy with wonder that she could find anything to laugh at.

Uncle Galfore never laughed. He worked hard from morning until night on the fields and did not know what joy was. Everything about Uncle Galfore was gray also, from his beard to his boots, and he looked stern and solemn, and rarely spoke.

It was Silkie that made Korothy laugh, and saved her from growing as dull and gray as the rest of her world was. Silkie was not gray; he was a little cream and pink larva with slightly moist, smooth skin that secreted mucus every now and then, two antennae, small stubby, nub-like legs (there were six, Korothy once counted) Silkie crawled about on, and large, bulging pink eyes with thick black eyelids which he hardly opened but twinkled merrily above his large mouth with pointed teeth. Silkie played all day long, eating anything in his way and never getting fatter, and Korothy played with him, and loved him dearly. He was her little bumgorf, as she liked to sometimes call him.

Today, however, they were not playing. Uncle Galfore sat upon the doorstep and looked up at the sky anxiously, which was even grayer than usual. Dark storm clouds began to gather at a frightening speed. Korothy stood in the door with Silkie in her arms, and looked at the sky too. Aunt Anders was washing the dishes.

From the far north they hears a low wail of the wind and a threatening rumble of thunder with small cracking snaps of lightning, and Uncle Galfore and Korothy could see where the long grass bowed in waves before the coming storm. There now came a sharp whistling in the air from the south, and as they turned their eyes that way they saw ripples in the grass coming from that direction also. Lightning and Thunder were playing a cruel game tonight, though Korothy and her aunt and uncle did not know it, where they fought between each other to see who had more lasting power. The after effects were creating a thunderous storm of harsh winds and lightning that began to charge the air and change the weather they were supposed to maintain down below.

Suddenly, Uncle Galfore stood up.

"There's a storm coming, Ander," he called to his wife. "I'll go look after the stock." Then he ran toward the sheds where the Flarnops and Portkins were kept.

Aunt Ander dropped her work and came to the door. One glance told her of the danger close at hand.

"Quick, Korothy!" she screamed. "Run for the cellar!"

Silkie jumped out of Korothy's arms and hid under the bed, and the girl started to get him. Aunt Ander, badly frightened, threw open the trap door in the floor and climbed down the ladder into the small, dark hole. Korothy caught the writhing slime creature at last and started to follow her aunt. When she was halfway across the room there was a great shriek from the wind, and the house shook so hard that she lost her footing and sat down suddenly upon the floor.

Then a strange thing happened.

The house whirled around two or three times and rose slowly through the air. Korothy felt as if she were going up in a balloon. Now, this was when Lightning and Thunder, tired of their game, began paying attention to the Tamaran planet's weather below, and noticed that their powers created a shift in energy that brought about a harsh, electric storm of pelting rain and raging winds, and that the harsh heat from the powerful lightning bolts created a large cyclone. But rather than help lessen the effects of the power, Lightning thought it was stupendous. He called upon his brother to look and see, who also felt mighty, and the both worked together to bring down harsher rain that turned the crack ground to a sloppy muddy place. The winds pushed at the planet roughly creating a large, spiraling cyclone, and the north and south winds met where the house stood, making it the exact center of the horrible storm. In the middle of a cyclone the air is generally still, but the great pressure of the wind on every side of the house raised it up higher and higher, until it was at the very top.

The roof leaked, the boards creaked, and there the house remained, at the top of the horrible storm, carried miles and miles away as easily as you could carry a feather. Lightning and Thunder thought their game to keep the house balanced upon their winds great fun, pushing it this way and that as if it were ping pong. For Korothy, it was very dark, the wind howled horribly, but Korothy was not afraid, and after the first few nauseating whirls around—Silkie threw up all over her violet sundress—she felt as if she were being rocked gently, like a baby in a cradle.

Silkie did not like it. He crawled about the room, leaving a trail of mucus, gurgling loudly; but Korothy sat quite still on the floor and waited to see what would happen. Once, Silkie got too near the open trap door and fell in, and at first the girl thought she had lost her only joy, sucked into the storm, thrown down to ground, and into the very abyss she dreamt up earlier in the day, but soon she saw one of his antennae sticking up through the hole, for the strong pressure of the air was keeping him up so he could not fall. She crawled to the hole, caught Silkie by the antenna, and dragged him into the room again, but not before closing the trap door so no more accidents could happen.

Hour after hour passed away, and Korothy began to feel quite lonely, and the wind shrieked so loudly all about her she nearly became deaf. Korothy crawled across the swaying floor to her bed, and lay down upon it, with Silkie nestled beside her, oozing mucus.


	2. Chapter 2

**The Rae-Zerd of Ozarath**

***Chapter Two**

** The Council with the Gizmokins**

Korothy was awakened by a shock, so sudden and severe that if Korothy had been on the soft bed she might have been hurt. As it was, the jar made her catch her breath and wonder what happened; and Silkie put his cold nose into her face, oozing goo and gurgling in a whining sort-of-way dismally. Korothy sat up and noticed that the house was not moving; nor was it dark, for the bright sunshine of one of the Tamaranian suns came in at the window, flooding the little room. She sprang from her bed and with Silkie at her heels, warbling, ran and threw open the door.

It seemed that Lightning and Thunder soon got over their game of keeping the house above the storm, especially after capturing stray Portkins up into the winds and hurling them off into a goal on the other side of the planet did not bode well. Almost all the Portkins died and even Lightning and Thunder began to feel guilt. They were powerful, but the lives of the creatures below were not, and that meant their playtime was over, for now. Of course they still had to show their prowess and magnificent abilities to the things below, but it was enough to remind them that the brothers were in control. So they turned their backs on the storm, allowing it to settle naturally.

Korothy gave a cry of amazement and looked about her, her green eyes growing bigger and bigger at the wonderful sights she saw. The storm had set the house down very gently—oddly enough—in the midst of a country of marvelous beauty. There were lovely patches of odd, beeping greensward all about, with stately trees that seemed to glow and whirr, bearing rich tiny rectangular objects with odd buttons and letters she could not understand. Banks of gorgeous metal flowers were on every hand, emitting the sweetest fragrances, and birds with rare and brilliant plumage sang and fluttered mechanically in the trees and bushes, their red eyes zooming in and out as they noticed the awed girl and her odd dog. A little way off was a small brook of electric currents of information, rushing and sparkling amongst the hidden circuitry between the painted green banks, and murmuring in an odd, emotionless voice. Korothy did not understand what these wonders were.

While she stood looking eagerly at the strange and beautiful sights, she noticed coming toward her a group of the queerest people she had ever seen. They were not as big as the grown folk she had always been used to; but neither were they very small like the little scampering children. In fact, they seemed to be a little younger than Korothy herself, wearing odd green suits with shoes built in and goggles. The opening of the collar of the suit was very big and circular, almost like a scarf, and odd gray appliances were placed in the middle of their chests, metal backpacks on their backs making clicking noises. Each was bald, though some were thinning, and all of their eyes had no pupils.

Some appeared to be females, with long skirts split in the middle to reveal they were wearing a full green jumpsuit underneath like the men. All of them wore scowls. When these people drew near the house where Korothy was standing in the doorway, they paused and whispered among themselves, as if they were arguing about something, sneaking annoyed glances at the girl. They were filled with boundless confidence, but did not want to approach the chit who had come onto their sacred land. But, one small boy walked up to Korothy, jabbed his finger in her direction and said, in a nasty voice:

"You are _not_ welcome, most ugly slug-face, to the land of the Gizmokins. We are _not_ grateful to you for having killed the Wicked Kitten of the East, and we are _not_ grateful for setting our people back months of work on the techno-environmental plan!"

Korothy listened to this speech with wonder. What could the little boy possibly mean by calling her a slug-face, and saying she had killed the Wicked Kitten of the East? Korothy was an innocent, harmless little girl, who had been carried by an unnerving storm many miles from home; and she had never killed anything in all her life.

But the little boy evidently expected her to answer; so Korothy said, with hesitation, "You are very kind, but there must be some mistake. I have not killed anything."

"Your crud-munching house did, anyway," the cranky little boy replied with a snarl, "and that is the same thing! See!" she continued, pointing to the corner of the house. "There are her two feet, still sticking out from under a block of wood! I hope you plan on paying for everything you damaged!"

Korothy looked, and gave a little cry of fright. There, indeed, just under the corner of the great beam the house rested on, two feet were sticking out, shod in silver shoes with pointed toes.

"Oh, dear! Oh, dear!" cried Korothy, clasping her hands together in dismay. "The house must have fallen on her. Whatever shall we do?"

"_We?_ What do you mean, _we_? You're going to pay for all this!"

"But who was she," asked Korothy, ignoring the odd boy.

"I _told_ you, she was the Wicked Kitten of the East," answered the boy, his face turning red with anger. "She has held all the Gizmokins in regard, especially when we've been conducting experiments to advance the quadrants technologically. We slaved over this project night and day, and now that you killed her, we are _not_ grateful for the favor, you pit-sniffer!"

"Who are the Gizmokins?" inquired Korothy.

"Scrum-buffing toe-jamming gunk-eater! Do you have barf for brains? We're _all_ Gizmokins."

Suddenly, a bright light, exactly the same way a television would flash on exploded by the little boy's side, and Korothy gasped. Before her stood

"Well, well well. If it isn't my…wait, who are you?" A fat, ugly looking man with a large round head and long orange hair appeared in a frilly pink tutu covered in sparkles and rhinestones with lace sleeves and tight bright pink tights. The little slippers on his big feet were tied on with ribbon, each with a fuzzy ball at the tip. He held a wand with a pink television remote ornament, a star glued on top, and Korothy was surprised.

"You are a…dork, yes?"

"What? No! I am the master of monsters! I am your darkest nightmares come to life! I am… I'm Control Freak, the Good Witch of the North! I'm also the Gizmokins' friend, and when they saw the Kitten of the East was dead the Gizmokins sent a swift messenger to me, and I came at once."

"Oh, gracious!" cried Korothy. "Are you a real witch?"

Control Freak nodded her fat head and rubbed her fat, round bum beneath the rather flashy tutu. "Yeah, I am—erm, I mean, yes, indeed," answered the Control Freak with a high-pitched voice. "But I am a good witch, and the people love me. I am not as powerful as the Wicked Witch, who ruled here, or I should have set these people to work with no pay and an incredibly expensive interest rate added on to their taxes if they didn't finish the work on a designated deadline."

"But I thought all witches were wicked, and females," said the girl, who was half frightened at facing the real witch. "Oh, no, that is a great mistake. There were only four witches in the Land of Ozarath, and two of them, those who live in the North and the South, are good witches. I know this is true, for I am one of them myself, and cannot be mistaken. Those who dwelt in the East and the West were, indeed, wicked witches; but now that you have killed one of them, there is but one Wicked Witch in the Land of Ozarath—the one who lives in the West. Man…these tights are giving me a wedgie."

"But," said Korothy, after a moment's thought, "Aunt Ander has told me that the witches were all dead—years and years ago."

"Who is Aunt Ander?" inquired the odd fat good witch.

"She is my aunt who lives on Tamaran, where I came from."

The Control Freak of the North seemed to think for a time, with her head bowed and her eyes upon the ground. Then she looked up and said, "I do not know where Tamaran is, for I have never heard that country mentioned before. But tell me, is it a civilized country?"

"Oh, yes," replied Korothy, "Although the food has a displeasing taste, one feels like the underside of a Zornian muck-beetle, and many people are clorbag varblernelks."

"Then that accounts for it. In the civilized countries I believe there are no witches left, not wizards, nor sorceresses, nor magicians. But, you see, the Land of Ozarath has never been civilized, for we are cut off from all the rest of the world. Therefore we still have witches and wizards amongst us."

"Who are the wizards?" asked Korothy.

"Rae-Zerd herself is the Great Wizard," answered the Control Freak, sinking her voice to a whisper. "She is more powerful than all the rest of us together. He lives in the City of Metrion."

Korothy was going to ask another question, but just then the Gizmokins, who had been arguing by themselves, secretly planning a way to make Korothy pay for all the damage she caused, gave a loud shout and pointed to the corner of the house where the Wicked Kitten had been lying.

"What is it? Can't you see I'm on a role here?" asked Control Freak, and looked, and began to laugh a merry, tinkling laugh of rainbows and sunlight. The feet of the dead Kitten had disappeared entirely, and nothing was left but the silver shoes.

"She was so young," explained the Control Freak of the North, "the she dried up quickly in the sun. It's simply because she was all evil inside. That is the end of her. But the silver shoes are yours—maybe you can sell them as a collectibles item—and you shall have them to wear." She reached down and picked up the shoes, and all the Gizmokins and Korothy cried out in disgust as he flashed them with his huge, white, floppy ass, the pink leotard hiding beneath his tutu riding up and giving him a wedgie. After shaking the dust out of the shoes, and everyone finished vomiting, Control Freak handed them to Korothy.

"The Kitten of the East flashed those silver shoes proudly all the time, and sometimes the mug-faced dirt-kicker danced on our project when she didn't like anything," said one of the Gizmokins, "apparently there's some charm connected with them…give them to us!"

Korothy carried the shoes into the house and placed them on the table. Then she came out again to the Gizmokins and said:

"I am anxious to get back to my aunt and uncle, for I am sure they will worry about me. Can you help me find my way?"

The Gizmokins grumbled underneath their breath, and the Control Freak shrugged.

"At the East, not far from here," said Control Freak, "There is a great desert, and none could live to cross it."

"It is the same at the South," she continued, "for I have been there and seen it. The South is the country of the Shallas. That is the same at the West. And that country, where the Shallas' live, is ruled by the Wicked Slade of the West, who would make you his slave if you passed his way. I'm afraid, cutesy toots, that you'll have to live with us."

Korothy felt lonely among all these strange people, but she needed to return home.

"How do I get to the City of Metrion?"

"You must walk. It is a long journey, through a country that is sometimes pleasant and sometimes dark and terrible, just the way I like it. However, with the wave of my remote wand, I'll spray some sprinkles your way. Maybe it'll keep you from harm, though I seriously doubt it. But I need a payment. I need a kiss for the spell to maybe work."

The Control Freak closed his eyes and pursed his lips, and Korothy frantically grabbed Silkie and pushed the top of his mucus head against the Control Freak's lips. Pleased, blushing a furious red, the Control Freak said, "The road to the City of Metrion is paved with Red-X brick, so you cannot miss it. When you get to the Rae-Zerd, do not be afraid and tell her your story and ask her to help you. Good-bye, and May the Force Be With You."

The Gizmokins turned to work at the house, and Korothy took the shoes, putting them on, before watching the Control Freak of the North vanish into static, disappearing from sight, much to the surprise of little Silkie, who gurgled after her loudly enough when she had gone, because he had been afraid to secrete mucus while she stood by.


End file.
